


honey and wildfire

by themetgayla



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Robin is an asshole, Smut, Some dom/sub undertones, but NOT a theme, he is a minor character, maybe slightly OOC, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2020-01-04 19:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18349814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetgayla/pseuds/themetgayla
Summary: When Regina applies for a job at the world-famous hotelThe Swan, she doesn’t expect to be thrown into a world of love, lies and drama. Can she resist the charms of her new boss Emma Swan? Is there more to her than meets the eye?





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> i promised myself i’d write all of this before uploading any but i couldn’t resist! i also don’t want to waste time on it if there’s negative feedback, lol.
> 
> slight tw for this first chapter where robin is a bit verbally abusive to regina, and there’s a (separate) slight non con scene but it’s v small i promise.
> 
> let me know your thoughts please!

“I’m worried, Kath.” Regina’s staring at herself in the mirror, running her hands anxiously over her body, smoothing down the pencil skirt Kathryn had suggested she wear. She usually loves getting dolled up, but not today. It’s the first job she’s applied for since graduating with her degree in English Literature, and she’s convinced the interview isn’t going to go well. Kathryn had gone through countless jobs before realising she could never work under someone, and had finally set up her own business. What if Regina finds she’s the same? What if she can never settle on a job she loves? What if she goes through life starved of fulfillment?

 

“Gina sweetie, you’re overthinking. Just take a deep breath, okay?” Kathryn’s hands skim over Regina’s shoulders, squeezing gently as she tries to draw out the tension built up there. The tall blonde fusses quietly with her friend’s hair, sliding in one last bobby pin to secure the intricate updo. “You’ll smash it, you’re more than qualified for the job.”

 

Regina supposes Kathryn is right; she’s applying for a job as a personal assistant in a fancy hotel, yet she has work experience on her resume that would qualify her for a position in a law firm, if she made a good enough impression. She’s great at those, all thanks to her mother’s countless lessons and strict rules forced upon her throughout her childhood.

 

Just as the petite brunette begins to feel a little more reassured, a harsh knock sounds at the front door, and the tension comes racing back. Her whole body stiffens, throat closing up as she fights the dread swirling in her gut. Kathryn shoots her a sympathetic look that makes her grimace, before leaving the room to answer the door.

 

Thinking that her boyfriend would want to drop her off at her interview to wish her luck, Regina had asked him. It’s the kind of thing David insists on doing for Kathryn, and they aren’t even together, so sue her for thinking Robin would want to do the same.

 

Instead, he’d moaned and complained about it over the phone to the point Regina had thrown her phone across the room and cried herself to sleep.

 

To his credit, she had received a very apologetic voicemail from him the following morning stating that he’d love to take her to her interview, which Regina had accepted, albeit warily. It’s safe to say that Kathryn had lectured her once again on the toxicity Robin carried with him like the plague -- the blonde _hates_ him -- but Regina had chosen to skilfully ignore her, as she always does these days.

 

(She knows her relationship with Robin is unhealthy. He’s a cheating scumbag. But he’s also safe. On the rare occasions he’s actually nice to her, she feels special. It’s pathetic, because he’s the last person that should be making her feel loved, but with the lack of affection shown to her in her childhood, Regina’s willing to take anything she can get, even if it means putting up with his, verging on verbally abusive, behaviour.)

 

“Regina! Robin’s here!” Kathryn’s voice floats up the stairs, and even in the seemingly innocent call, Regina can hear the not-so-hidden hatred in her voice. Releasing a long, hopefully calming breath, the brunette forces her shoulders back and plasters a smile on her face, desperately hoping it doesn’t look as false as she thinks it does.

 

Robin’s lewd grin immediately turns to a frown as she descends the stairs, and Regina instinctively braces herself for attack. “You’re not wearing that,” he says bluntly, folding his arms somewhat authoritatively across his chest.

 

Regina sighs. She should have known they’d have _this_ conversation. She’s sick and tired of dressing according to his shitty rules; she feels good, and she knows she looks good, so yeah, she’s going to wear the damn skirt. Narrowing her eyes, she grabs her coat off the hook and shrugs it on, determined not to back down. “Yes I am, now let’s go.”

 

Shocked at the fight her girlfriend is putting up, Robin’s thin lips curl up into a harsh sneer. “I’m not driving you anywhere with your legs on display like that. They’ll know you’re the little slut you pretend not to be.”

 

She had so wanted to stand up to him, she really had, but those words coming from his mouth cut deeper than she’d expected. Her mother’s words swim around her head, the echoes taunting her, those words from her childhood forcing tears into her eyes. _You’re such a slut, Regina, cover up._

 

Immediately spotting the brunette’s reaction, Kathryn steps in front of her and glares at Robin. “I suggest you shut your mouth right now and drive Regina to her interview, okay? Otherwise you’ll have a knee coming for your tiny dick before you can blink,” she snarls, eyes flashing dangerously.

 

Robin gulps audibly and casts his eyes to the floor, scuffing his shoe against the carpet. Kathryn nudges Regina forwards gently, prompting her to leave the house, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek for good luck. The brunette flashes her a grateful smile, and ducks past Robin, heart still pounding in her chest.

 

“Watch it, Locksley.” Kathryn gives him a final glare before ushering him out of the door, using perhaps a little more force than necessary.

 

* * *

 

After a _painfully_ long drive — Regina only timed it to be eleven minutes and forty eight seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Robin slams on the brakes outside The Swan, sending the small brunette lurching forwards in her seat, belt digging in sharply to her neck. Fighting the urge to speak out, Regina gulps down her sniping words and stretches her lips up into a smile. She thanks him sweetly, but makes sure to slam the car door extra hard in response, which she knows he hates.

 

Blatantly ignoring the yell she gets as she stalks away from his car, Regina gathers her thoughts and tucks them away neatly in the little box in her brain reserved especially for him. (She’s not going to lie, it’s nearly full.)

 

His aggressive shout of _“slut!”_ echoes around the quiet street, causing an unwelcome heat to rise to Regina’s cheeks. The scattering of people on the sidewalk turn to stare at her, and she ducks her head to the ground, hurrying into the warm embrace of the hotel reception.

 

Releasing a quiet sigh of relief, Regina raises her head with a faux confidence that’s well-practised, and stares around, trying to find someone to direct her to the job interviews.

 

A slim woman with dramatically curled chestnut hair catches her attention, a name badge pinned clearly to her pink silky blouse. Regina moves towards her, heels clicking over the marble floor, clutching her purse by her side. “Excuse me?” The woman whips round, eyebrows raised impatiently. “Uh, could you point me to the interviews for Ruby Lucas’ personal assistant, please?”

 

The woman’s lips curl up into a sneer immediately, and she releases a cackle Regina’s fairly certain isn’t human. “I’m not your slave, bitch.” The small brunette is taken aback by the harsh attitude, and she can’t help but take a hesitant step backwards. “Watch yourself. Don’t get tangled up in Emma Swan’s business. Trust me, you won’t like what happens.” With that, she marches off, head held high and mighty.

 

Regina watches, dumbfounded as to what just happened. Was that a threat? A warning? God, she’s too tired for this.

 

Clearing her throat quietly, the brunette glances around to find a kinder employee to point her in the right direction. It seems like today is more of a battle than she’d hoped for.

 

* * *

 

After managing to find a more helpful employee to point her in the right direction, Regina finds herself stuck in an elevator with a dozen other impeccably dressed people. She’s suddenly glad Kathryn fussed over her the amount that she did, because everyone looks simply gorgeous, which she supposes fits with the high calibre of hotel.

 

As the doors ping open for the third time, letting another stream of people out, a girl shuffles in, red curls falling down her back, a pretty smile stretching her lips apart. “Hi! You look as lost as I am. Are you here for the interviews, by any chance? I’m Belle.” The woman extends her hand politely, and Regina grips it in response, flashing a soft smile at the slightly younger girl.

 

“I’m Regina, and yes, I am here for the interviews - you caught me.” She releases a throaty chuckle that has Bella grinning wildly, smoothing down her bright blue blouse unconsciously.

 

“I think we’ll be great friends.”

 

Regina isn’t usually one for making friends, let alone talking to strangers, but she finds herself weirdly comforted by the woman’s presence, and she wonders if a friendship perhaps wouldn’t be so bad.

 

* * *

 

They get off on the fortieth floor, shoulders brushing as they both stare around, stunned into silence at the chic elegance of the place. Employees appear to be rushing back and forth, left and right, all walking with a purpose Regina can’t imagine having.

 

She’s caught up in admiring the bounciness of the red carpet when Belle tugs on her forearm and pulls her towards a clearly printed sign directing them to the left. Regina follows willingly, unused to being surrounded by such grandeur and glamour.

 

(Throughout her upbringing, they’d been just short of poor, with enough money to get by but nowhere near enough to fund the common pleasures of life she so desired. Things had changed since her father’s death, and her inheritance of a reasonable sum of money that paid nicely for her college tuition. But now that’s all gone, and she’s stuck rooming with Kathryn. Don’t get her wrong, the girl is her best friend, but she hates inconveniencing other people; she’d honestly rather live alone.)

 

Regina’s dragged back to the present as they’re approached by a long-legged woman armed with a clipboard and a beaming smile. “Hello, I’m Ruby Lucas, Deputy Manager here at _The Swan_. Can I take your names please?”

 

“Belle French.”

 

“Regina Mills.”

 

Ruby scans her clipboard quickly and picks out their names, snapping her head up quickly and flashing them a toothy grin. “Alright Miss French, you’re with me. And Miss Mills? You’ll be interviewed by Ms Swan herself. Good luck!”

 

Regina’s not sure she likes the sound of the hastily added _good luck_ added to the end of her sentence. It sounds ominous. She thinks immediately back to the threatening woman in the hotel reception, warning her to stay away.

 

 _Great_.

 

She walks numbly towards the office at the end of the corridor with the big door, assuming it’s the one where Emma Swan resides. People shoot her odd looks as she passes them, which does nothing to calm the anxiety coursing through her veins.

 

Gulping audibly, the brunette knocks, hopefully loud enough to be heard. A faint _come in_ floats through the door, forcing Regina to face her fears and enter the office.

 

There’s a blonde figure standing by the floor-length windows, dressed in an elegant pantsuit, effortless waves tumbling down her back as she leans casually against the frame. Regina immediately feels heat flood to her centre, and she squeezes her thighs together desperately. Now is definitely _not_ the time for this to be happening. She’s here for a _formal_ interview, for God’s sake.

 

“Welcome, Miss Mills.” The blonde spins around, a sultry smirk painted on pale lips. Regina has to stop herself gasping, biting down firmly on her bottom lip to prevent her jaw from dropping. Emma Swan is simply breathtaking, her fitted blazer outlining toned muscles, the top button of her shirt tantalisingly undone. Fuck.

 

“M-Ms Swan.” It takes all the strength Regina has not to fucking _curtsy._ It’s wrong, so wrong, because she barely knows this woman and they’re here for an interview, but she suddenly finds herself almost desperate to just be thrown up against that window and fucked into oblivion.

 

Tucking her hair behind her ear nervously, Regina shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying her best to maintain eye contact as Emma flashes her a teasing smile and moves closer.

 

“Why do you want to work for me, Miss Mills?”

 

Emma’s only an inch away from her now, so close that her fruity perfume assaults the brunette as she stands frozen, body on fire. She could so easily just lean forward and—

 

“Miss Mills?”

 

“Oh, um, I…” Regina scrabbles around for an appropriate answer, wishing her earlier practice with Kathryn would come flooding back to her. Before she has a chance to continue her sentence, Emma lifts a slender finger and places it gently on her lips.

 

“Is it because you find me hot, _Regina_?”

 

The brunette gasps out loud, eyes widening as she presses her fingers into her hip to maintain self control. She wants so badly to give in, to frantically agree and let Emma take her against the window. But she can’t, and _christ_ she really needs to get ahold of herself.

 

 _This is wrong, this is wrong, this is wrong_.

 

Emma leans forward without waiting for an answer, lips hovering teasingly.

 

Regina panics, too torn between staying and leaving that she lashes out instinctively, palm coming into contact with a soft cheek as she jumps backwards. Without looking to see the wild surprise in Emma’s eyes, she turns and runs from the blonde’s office, heart thundering in her rib cage.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo i’m back! this received good reviews so i’m back with chapter two. uploads might be slow because i’m in the middle of preparing for my final exams! but i managed to finish this, so enjoy!
> 
> very tiny tiny tw for the last paragraph. it’s so small but i want to make sure i don’t trigger anyone!

Regina ends up on the street, panting harshly as people strut past, ignoring her flushed cheeks and wheezing breaths as they go about their days. Fighting the tears that are battling to spring into her eyes, she fumbles around in her purse and pulls out her phone, shakily finding Kathryn’s number in her emergency contacts.

 

It rings once, twice, three times before her friend pics up, tone surprised as she eagerly asks what’s wrong. Regina relays the story to her, leaning heavily against the wall as she lets Kath’s voice pierce her ears through her phone; she should have prepared herself for the onslaught of death threats and protective comments from the blonde. 

 

(She does get rather  _ too  _ protective.)

 

Kathryn’s promising to pick her up before Regina even has a chance to ask, which is honestly a relief. She feels like crawling into bed and staying there for the next two weeks, wallowing in self pity.

 

She feels stupid for being so upset; Emma hadn’t really done much, but the actions, while seductive, had been all too similar to that of Robin’s. The brunette is no stranger to her boyfriend forcing himself upon her, and the overwhelming fear that Emma had been about to do the same is what prompted her to lash out as she did.

 

Regina deliberately ignores the part where her body had been aching for Emma, begging her to just take her against the wall. She might be sinfully attracted to the woman, but she does  _ not  _ want to be known as a woman who sleeps her way to the top. She’s better than that.

 

Before she can dwell on Emma’s sharp cheekbones and intoxicating scent any longer, Kathryn pulls up on the curb and calls her name. Regina is jolted from her thoughts, and walks hastily to the passenger seat, legs still shaking slightly.

 

“Hey babe, you alright? Want me to go in there and teach that woman a lesson?” There’s a familiar anger in the blonde’s eyes, one similar to the hatred she has for Robin. It’s unnerving, and Regina hopes that hatred is never directed at her.

 

“Thanks Kath, but no. I just want to forget about it.”

 

Kathryn hums lightly as she steps on the gas and pulls away. “I can do that; how about we go clubbing tonight? You’ll definitely forget about everything once you’ve got a few shots in you.” She winks cheekily, and Regina can’t help but giggle. She isn’t normally one for parties, but perhaps this is what she needs.

 

“Sure, why not?”

 

* * *

There’s a bouquet of flowers on the doorstep when they arrive home, one so beautifully arranged and bursting with life that it almost brings tears to Regina’s eyes. Her first thought is that they’re from Robin as an apology for earlier, and although she hates herself for it, her heartbeat skyrockets.

 

“I can’t believe he’d do something like this! How kind of him,” Regina comments, unable to help the smile that stretches across her lips.

 

Kathryn picks them up, admiring them, albeit skeptically. “Wait, look, there’s a tag.” The soft swearing alerts Regina that perhaps the bouquet is not from Robin. “It’s from that woman, Emma Swan. She’s the one that interviewed you, right?”

 

The brunette’s eyebrows rise in genuine shock. Why has Emma sent her flowers? “Give me that,” she snaps, tugging the bouquet from Kathryn and scanning the tag hurriedly.

 

_ Dear Regina, _

_ I am extremely sorry for what happened earlier. I would love for you to give me a chance to explain things. My number is at the bottom; please call me. Take care, _

_ Emma Swan _

 

Confusion floods through her. Explain things? What the hell is that supposed to mean? “Christ Kathryn, I don’t have the energy for this,” she mumbles, pushing the flowers into her friend’s hand before unlocking the front door and stumbling inside, already beginning to feel a migraine permeating her skull.

 

She needs a fucking vodka.

 

* * *

After an hour of pleading, Kathryn had managed to persuade Regina to rethink her sudden refusal to leave the house with the temptation of a new dress and a girls’ night: just them, no men.

 

Regina is actually kind of glad she agreed to come out; she feels sexy as fuck in the short black dress, and with a few shots coursing through her veins, she’s having the time of her life. The bass vibrates through the club, lights dancing around the room as they dance, grinding up against each other and giggling every few minutes.

 

Well, she  _ was  _ having the time of her life.

 

Everything comes to a complete standstill when August swaggers up to them, cocky smirk in place as his eyes roam up and down Kathryn hungrily. “Hey ladies, fancy seeing you here,” he greets, immediately slinging an arm around the blonde’s waist and pulling her into him.

 

Kathryn gasps at the sudden action but happily presses herself into him, unconsciously winding herself around him. Regina watches, heart sinking as she realises their ‘girls’ night’ is over.

 

(August is Kathryn’s boyfriend. Kind of. They’re fuck buddies, to put it crudely, but Regina’s pretty sure they’re verging on dating. It seems like they’re together almost everyday, constantly all over each other, but there’s a tender love lingering between them which is admittedly kind of cute.)

 

“What are you doing here?” Kathryn asks, humming quietly as he smoothes his fingers over her hip and round to her ass.

 

“I came with Robin, he’s uh, over by the bar.” August rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, painfully aware of how much Kathryn hates the man. Regina’s heart plummets further, bottoming in her gut as she glances discreetly to the left, spotting Robin’s smug smirk from where she's standing.

 

A familiar disgust swirls in her stomach as she pastes a fake smile onto her face. “I’ll go and talk to him. You two have fun,” she lies, wrapping her arms self consciously around her middle as she approaches the bar, suddenly not so confident in her dress. She can already hear Robin’s scathing tone telling her how  _ slutty _ she looks, how she’s  _ practically asking to be raped _ .

 

Regina knows his behaviour is horrific, and she almost thinks she doesn’t deserve it, but he takes great pleasure in telling her that she deserves everything she gets from him; maybe he’s right.

 

As the brunette gets closer, she sees Robin approaching a gorgeous woman. Anyone else would be furious at the flirtatious smile he shoots her, and the very obvious lust swallowing his iris’, but Regina only feels relieved. Thank  _ god  _ she won’t have to talk to him.

 

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Regina perches on one of the bar stools and motions to the bartender for a few vodka shots. She’s not in the mood to fuck around.

 

(Her mind immediately drifts to Emma, which somehow manages to set her nerves alight, her core aching with need.)

 

“Hey sweet cheeks, how are you doing?”

 

Regina rolls her eyes. Now really isn’t the time for this. Her head is swimming — yes, she’s just (read: a lot) beyond tipsy — and she can’t say she’s responsible for her actions if anything goes wrong.

 

“No thanks,” she mumbles, knocking back a shot and slamming it down on the bar. The man blinks, unphased, and only steps closer, leering grin firmly in place.

 

“Aw baby, don’t be like that. Let me buy you a drink,” he persists, arm grazing Regina’s as he leans against the side, the stench of alcohol uncomfortably present on his breath.

 

“I’ve already got a drink.”

 

“Then I’ll get you another.”

 

“But I don’t want—”

 

“Is there a problem here?”

 

That voice. Regina recognises it. It’s familiar, very familiar. As she looks up from her shot glass, she realises why.

 

It’s Emma Swan.

 

Regina tries to mask her shock; why the fuck is Emma here? How had she known this is where she’d be? The blonde looks  _ sinfully  _ good in tight black pants and a silky shirt unbuttoned to show a teasing hint of cleavage, something which forces Regina to cross her legs a little tighter and shift discreetly in her seat. How dare the woman make her feel such things?

 

“I was just buying this gorgeous lady a drink,” the man says smugly, not at all affected by the intimidating presence. Regina finds herself shrinking unconsciously in her seat as she watches Emma’s eyes darken with anger, hands balling into fists by her sides.

 

“I don’t think so. I quite clearly heard her say she didn’t want one, so I suggest you leave.” The blonde’s voice trembles with a kind of silent anger that Regina thinks might just be simultaneously the hottest and scariest thing she’s ever seen.

 

_ Fuck, keep it together, won’t you? She did almost assault you earlier, don’t forget that.  _ Chewing on her bottom lip to stop herself getting too carried away, the brunette keeps her eyes glued to Emma, the roaring of her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

 

“Calm down love, no need to get your panties in a twist,” he jibes, cackling at his own joke.

 

“You will not speak to me in such a way, Mister. I think you’d like to know that I own this club. Now get your fucking ass out before I ban you for life,” Emma growls, jade eyes darkening angrily as she takes a threatening step forwards.

 

Her voice does things to Regina, awful things. She can feel her clit pulsing with the desire to be touched, heat spreading from her core into the pit of her stomach where it bubbles, growing as she watches the man’s eyes widen in fear. Unable to help herself, the brunette tries to press her clit down into the hard edge of the stool, whimpering quietly under her breath as the bud grazes the wood.

 

As the man leaves, sulking off into the darkness of the club, Emma rushes forwards, the anger replaced with bright concern. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

 

Regina clears her throat and clenches her thighs together, trying to shake the lust clouding her vision. “N-No, I’m okay.” The brunette forces herself to remember the blonde’s near-assault, and her eyes harden, jaw firmly set in place. “What are you doing here?”

 

Emma looks mildly put out by the sudden change in tone, but brushes it off, determined to do what she came here for. “Like I said, I own this place. But um, since you’re here, I’d really like a chance to explain myself. Please?” It seems like asking in such a way is not something the blonde does usually — why would she? She’s the owner of a multi-million dollar hotel empire. Regina’s heart tells her there’s no harm in hearing the older woman out, but her head still refuses to cooperate.

 

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” she snaps, turning resolutely back around to the bar and downing another shot. The liquid no longer burns the back of her throat like it should; instead it’s comforting, like a burst of courage.

 

“Please, Miss Mills. I don’t care if you hate me afterwards but I— I don’t like the thought of you not knowing why I acted in such a way.” Emma’s voice is pleading, jade eyes wide with sincerity. Regina stares at her for a moment, unable to find fault with her words, and finds herself relenting.

 

“Ugh, fine, but make it quick.”

 

The blonde’s eyes light up, and her pale lips stretch into a wide smile. “Thank you. Do you mind if we go somewhere a little quieter? I promise you’ll be safe.” Emma seems nervous to ask,  _ quite rightly _ , Regina supposes. Call her a bad judge of character, but the brunette doesn’t think the woman is going to do anything to harm her, despite the morning’s occurrences.

 

“Lead the way. But I swear to god, if you try anything I’ll call the police. I don’t care how famous you are,” Regina warns, narrowing her eyes.

 

“Of course, Miss Mills.”

 

“Call me Regina.”

 

* * *

They end up in a small, sleekly furnished room, dimly lit with hanging lights. Emma clicks the door shut, but consciously leaves it unlock so as not to make Regina feel trapped. The blonde gestures to the couch, but the younger woman shakes her head, opting to stay standing, arms folded around her waist protectively.

 

“So? Get on with it.”

 

Emma scratches the back of her neck nervously, trying not to be put out by Regina’s snappy tone. “Uh yes, of course. I-It was a test. I wanted someone professional, someone who wouldn’t be distracted by me. Of all the women I interviewed, you were the only one who fought back. The others all let me kiss them, whether they wanted it or were too scared to stop me. I… I wasn’t trying to frighten you. It was just a test, a bad one, I suppose. I’d love it if you came by the hotel in the morning for a proper interview; you can say no of course, but you’re the only one I want working for me, and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I took away a decent job from you because of my silly test.” The blonde scuffs the toe of her shoes into the carpet, displaying an anxiety Regina’s sure doesn’t come out much.

 

She doesn’t really know what to think. Emma seems genuine —  _ really  _ genuine, if the wide, almost pleading eyes are anything to go by — but she doesn’t know if she can cope with going back to  _ The Swan  _ and having another interview. 

 

“I… I’m not quite sure what to say, if I’m honest.” Regina rubs the material of her dress between her fingers, worrying her bottom lip as she looks up at Emma through thick lashes.

 

“Of course, you don’t have to decide now. Just come if you’re interested, say 10AM?”

 

Regina nods in agreement, oddly charmed by Emma’s caring attitude. The brunette isn’t used to people putting her feelings first, or even considering what she might want — bar Kathryn, of course, that woman has always stood by her — so it’s a pleasant change, despite her original impression of the businesswoman.

 

There’s a vaguely uncomfortable silence, so Regina says the only thing she can think of. “Can I leave now?” The disappointment that clouds Emma’s face is painfully obvious, but it disappears as soon as Regina blinks, hidden behind a bright smile and accepting eyes.

 

“Of course Regina, have a lovely evening.”

 

The brunette pushes the expression of hurt swimming before her eyes to the back of her mind and forces a half smile. “Thank you, you too,” she says gently, lifting her hand in an awkward wave before leaving the room.

 

Emma stares after her, jade eyes wide with a foreign kind of longing she’s not used to. She rubs her thumb over the cuts on her forearm, unconsciously tugging the sleeve of her shirt down to over them.


	3. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s ?? been ?? so ?? long ?? i’m sorry i haven’t updated in yEaRs. this chapter is kind of a filler so i’m sorry it’s so short. it just... doesn’t work if it isn’t. anyways, enjoy?

Upon entering the dance floor, Regina’s eyes are immediately drawn to Robin, who’s fawning over a girl, the same one he’d been talking to before. The brunette scrunches up her nose in disgust, unable to comprehend what a scumbag he is; she really doesn’t know why she puts up with it. Surely she deserves more? Or does she?  _ No.  _

 

Before she can sink into a painfully self-deprecating spiral, she spots Belle, the woman she’d met at  _ The Swan  _ earlier today. She’s stood with a woman, their arms wound around each other lovingly, passing a cocktail back and forth between them. Regina contemplates going over, but notices Belle waving her arm wildly in her direction, beckoning her over.

 

Relief settling in her stomach, the brunette totters towards them, a little wobbly on her feet from the alcohol. She grins brightly, eyes shining with vodka. “Hey!”

 

“Regina, hi, funny seeing you here. This is Marie, my girlfriend. Are you here alone?” Belle gestures to the pretty dark-haired girl pressed against her and smiles gently. Regina nods in acknowledgement, returning the smile easily.

 

“Well, I came with my best friend but she’s run off with her boyfriend so I guess I’m alone. My boyfriend is over there, actually, flirting with that girl. He’s scum,” she explains matter-of-factly, validation spreading through her veins as both Belle and Marie glance over towards Robin and then back at her, horror replacing their smiles.

 

“How dare he? I’m sorry love, you don’t deserve that,” Marie says boldly, releasing her girlfriend in favour of flinging her arms around Regina for comfort. Belle immediately dumps the drink she’s holding to the side and joins in, always happy to promote a bit of girl love.

 

After moments of tight squeezing, the girls break apart, Regina sufficiently comforted. “You should confront him, girl, don’t let him get away with it!”

 

“You think?” Insecurity bubbles up in the petite girl; she’s rather terrified by the idea of standing up to Robin, though the alcohol coursing through her does seem to be making the prospect a lot more appealing.

 

“Hell yes, he can’t just get away with shit like that, Regina,” Belle encourages, eyes sparking with a defiant fire that seems uncharacteristic for her sweet nature.

 

“You’re right.” And they are right; Regina’s sick of Robin treating her like shit and she deserves some answers. Answers to why his arm is curled around the waist of another girl. (Regina doesn’t actually care what Robin does — she doesn’t even like him anymore, but on principle, he should know better.)

 

“You go girl! Go kick his ass!” Marie squeals, bobbing on the spot as she squeezes Regina’s arm reassuringly and gives her a gentle push in Robin’s direction.

 

Steeling her expression, Regina nods firmly and walks towards Robin, pushing down the swirling current of nerves in her stomach.

 

Robin sees her coming from across the dance floor, and immediately disentangles his arm from the woman’s waist. Regina can’t help but roll her eyes at the blatantly guilty action; she didn’t think her boyfriend was  _ this  _ stupid.

 

“Robin,” she greets coolly, glancing over her shoulder to see Belle and Marie watching her avidly. “Who’s this?”

 

“Regina. This is Mariam, my ex girlfriend. Mariam, this is Regina.” Mariam has the courtesy to offer Regina a small smile, but it’s somewhat false and she sees right past it. The brunette almost scoffs, but holds it back.

 

“Right. Getting cosy?” Regina asks sweetly, fake smile plastered across her face, tone dripping with sarcasm. Robin glares at her sharply, eyes narrow and threatening, but Regina cant find it in herself to care. The surge of adrenaline that courses through her veins is gloriou. (She wonders if she should act out against Robin more often. (Probably.))

 

Mariam looks mildly unnerved, but Regina ignores it. If the woman wants to get back with Robin then honestly, she can go right ahead. The man is a complete idiot.

 

“I’d like to go home. Will you take me, please?”

 

Robin looks offended at the question, as though Regina asking is a slap to the face. “No. I’m staying here with Mariam,” he grits out, voice low.

 

It’s safe to say the conversation has sobered Regina up a bit, and she’s beginning to feel a familiar dread seep back into her stomach. It’s a feeling that always seems to be present around Robin these days, even when he’s playing nice. She’s right to be alert though — she never knows what he’s going to do next. The unpredictability makes her feel sick.

 

Jaw clenched, Regina spins on her heel and storms off, pissed off and fucking  _ tired _ . She just needs to find Kathryn to get the keys to their apartment so she can try and walk home. (They really need to get another key made.)

 

Regina stands at the edge of the dance floor for what seems like hours, scanning it over and over again for her friend, to no avail. It occurs to her that Kathryn may have left with August already.  _ For fucks sake _ .

 

Fighting back tears, the brunette wraps her arms protectively around her waist and pushes through the sticky crowd to get to the doors. The heat presses down on her, slim fingers wrapping around her neck as she gasps for fresh air.

 

She finally reaches the door, throws it open, and stumbles out. The air is crisp and it’s  _ heavenly _ . Regina takes a dozen deep breaths, forcing the cold air down into her lungs, soothing her.

 

It then occurs to her that she has no way of getting home, and no cash on her to even pay for a taxi. The sobs roll up her shoulders and crash upon her, chest heaving as tears drip down her cheeks. She sinks down onto the floor, pulling her knees up into her chest, tears soaking into her hot skin.

 

And then—

 

“Regina? Are you okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooo who has come to regina’s rescue?


	4. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello i have no excuse other than my declining physical and mental health. my greatest apologies. i started college (english college, not uni) in september and i have thus been very busy. but i was weirdly inspired to write so... here i am.
> 
> i’m sorry it’s short but i thought it was better to upload something, right? i hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think.

“Regina, what are you doing out here? You could catch your death, it’s freezing.”

 

Regina’s head snaps up at the familiar voice— It’s Emma. While the sight of the blonde is admittedly relieving, she’s not exactly who she wants to see right now. “What do you want?” Her voice doesn’t carry the bite she’d hoped it would; she just sounds tired. Probably because she is.

 

“I’m not here for anything, I promise. I was just leaving and I noticed you sat here and I- I cant leave without making sure you get home safely,” Emma explains, arms folded across her body, fighting back a shiver. Regina looks infinitely colder though — her body is visibly shaking, teeth chattering as she tries to warm herself up by rubbing her skin.

 

“I don’t need your help.” Regina doesn’t look at Emma, not trusting herself to resist the woman’s charm.

 

“Regina, please. I don’t want to leave you out here this late.”

 

Regina finds herself glancing over at the blonde, confused by the desperation ringing her tone. “Why do you care? You barely know me.” It’s oddly touching in a way, but Regina really doesn’t need Emma’s concern; she’s fine.

 

Emma clears her throat hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable with the personal question. “I wouldn’t want to leave anyone,” she says. “There are all sorts of people out at this time. Please let me take you home. I’m not looking for anything in return, I swear. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Regina thinks the woman sounds genuine — whether’s she’s being naïve or simply perceptive, she doesn’t know.

 

But her bed does seem wildly appealing right now, and my god, she’s so cold she’s sure her nipples are about to fall off. It’s then that she remembers she can’t actually get into Kathryn’s house.

 

“I can’t get in, my friend has the keys and I can’t find her. She went off with her boyfriend,” Regina explains sadly, despising August’s very existence for taking Kathryn away from her for sex. She wants sleep for fucks sake.

 

“You can sleep with me,” Emma offers without hesitation.

 

“Emma—” Regina begins, alarmed.

 

“Shit, that didn’t sound right. Uh, I meant that you can come to my apartment. Only to sleep, of course. You can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.” Emma fiddles with the hem of her suit jacket, clearly berating herself for her clumsy choice of words.

 

Regina can’t help but laugh, somewhat amused. Emma was trying to make things up to her though, that much was clear. And there’s something about the blonde that she trusts, but whatever it is, she can’t quite put her finger on it.

 

Still torn, Regina hesitates. Her instincts are usually right, aren’t they? Maybe the fact she has to question it tells her they aren’t. Despite what happened this morning, Emma doesn’t seem like a bad person.

 

It’s this that makes her agree. “Fine. But try anything and you’re dead, alright?” Regina rises on shaky legs, goosebumps immediately rising on her shins. Emma watches, wishing she could take the brunette in her arms and hug the cold away.

 

“Of course, understood. I deserve the doubt, but I really am sorry. I know I can never take it back. It was only meant to be a test, not me thinking I can force myself upon any woman I want. And I hope it doesn’t ruin your opinion of me forever.”

 

Regina softens, nodding before walking forward, trying not to appear too affected by the biting wind. Emma falls into step beside her and they walk silently, the air thick with tension.

 

The silence is broken by Regina’s teeth clacking together, a weakness caused by her drift of focus. Emma slips off her jacket and offers it to the brunette, expression nervous.

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“I insist, you’re shaking,” Emma encourages, smiling when Regina stops and allows her to help her into the suit jacket. It’s warm, and immediately calms her shivers.

 

“Thank you.”

 

“My pleasure.” Emma would happily give Regina all her clothes if it meant she could be comfortable, no matter how cold it made her.

 

* * *

 

They arrive at The Swan after an almost silent car journey, both too wrapped up in their own thoughts to make conversation. Regina’s apprehensive. Although she doesn’t believe Emma will do anything, there are still a dozen other things that could go wrong. All she wants is to sleep, and then she can finally get on with her life without Emma in it. (Unless she decides to take up the woman’s offer for a do-over job interview. She’s still undecided, but tonight has definitely helped the blonde’s case.)

 

Emma leads her into the hotel, heading straight for the elevator marked _Staff_ behind the reception desk. The ride to the top floor is quiet, only the whirring of the elevator breaking the awkward silence.

 

To be honest, it’s not that Regina doesn’t want to talk, it’s that she doesn’t know what to say. Her and Emma already have a very strange aquaintanceship — for lack of a better word — and they’ve only known each other for a day.

 

“We’re here,” Emma says softly, guiding Regina off the elevator with a light touch to her shoulder, careful not to be too casual with her hands. She’s a naturally tactile person, but the last thing she wants to do is make Regina uncomfortable again.

 

Regina’s too occupied with taking in the suite to pay any attention to Emma’s guiding touch; she’s never seen a place so lavish and tastefully decorated. It certainly makes Kathryn’s house pale in comparison, and even that’s on a large suburban estate.

 

Regina suddenly feels embarrassed by her lack of home. Sure, she’s never comfortable with it, and she has the valid excuse that she’s waiting to save up money to buy an apartment, and Kathryn never makes her feel bad about it, but compared to what Emma has, she feels unworthy of even the blonde’s time and attention.

 

“Regina? You okay?” Emma’s face looms in front of hers, concern shining in her eyes.

 

“Yes, I was just marvelling at your interior design. This place is gorgeous,” Regina compliments, flushing at being caught so lost in her thoughts. There’s an abundance of greys and whites, accompanied by bright splashes of red and gold here and there. Modern lights hang from the ceiling, bright but not harsh, illuminating the small flourishes to the living room; vintage art prints, a bowl of ruby red apples on the coffee table, small cat ornaments dotted around. It’s stylish, but it’s also homely, in a strange way. Regina can’t see any evidence of the place being lived in other than the empty yellow mug on the table and a cardigan draped across the back of the couch.

 

Emma smiles, some of her confidence returning to her, tingling in her fingertips. While she would love to give Regina a proper tour of the apartment, it’s reaching midnight, and they’re both exhausted. “Thank you. Come through to my bedroom, I’ll give you something to wear.” Emma walks off towards a door off to the side without waiting for a response; Regina doesn’t think it’s up for discussion.

 

She follows without hesitation, lingering in the doorway as Emma rifles through her drawers, fishing out an oversized white t-shirt and a pair of silky panties. ”Here, I hope these are okay. I never sleep with pants on so I don’t exactly have any… But I can find you a pair of joggers if you’d be more comfortable with that,” the blonde offers, trying her best to mask her anxiety with a confident smile. She just hopes Regina doesn’t see through her flimsy facade.

 

God, what is wrong with her today? She never behaves like this, even around women as attractive and intelligent — she assumes — as Regina. It’s a new side to her she’s never experienced, and she _hates it._

 

Regina can’t help the blush that blossoms on her cheeks, creeping down her neck, The thought of sleeping in Emma’s shirt and panties makes her flutter low in her stomach; if her panties weren’t wet before, they are now. “No, um, it’s fine, thank you,” Regina mumbles, face burning with embarrassment at her body’s strong reaction. What would Emma think if she knew? She’d be absolutely disgusted.

 

Not wanting to upset herself over an entirely hypothetical situation, Regina clutches the clothes to her chest and peers around the room. “Is there a bathroom I can get changed in?” She asks politely.

 

“Oh yes, of course. There are spare toothbrushes in the cupboard, and towels if you’d like to shower.” Emma thrusts her hand towards a door across the room and offers a kind smile. She then takes her leave, telling the brunette she’ll be back in a while.

 

She has a lot to think about, and none of it is good. Meeting Regina, while a weird yet incredible experience, throws a lot of complication into her already complex life. If the younger woman does decide to take up the offer of the interview, and therefore is hired, Emma will have to struggle along with her feelings on top of everything else.

 

It’s not something she’d choose, let’s put it that way, but she knows Regina is the perfect person to be her secretary, personal bias or not. Plus, the woman needs a job, and Emma isn’t about to deny someone of that, especially not someone so captivating.

 

Sinking down onto the couch, Emma lets her head drop against the back and closes her eyes, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

 

* * *

 

“Emma,” Regina calls softly from the doorway, voice edged with timidity Emma finds adorable. Her heart melts as soon as she sets eyes on Regina; the shirt rests mid-thigh, showing a tantalising amount of bare skin that makes Emma’s pussy contract and begin pulsing with need.

 

“Regina, hi.” She hopes her voice doesn’t sound too strangled, but she can’t tear her eyes away from the brunette’s smooth, toned legs. It’s making her want to slam Regina against the wall and— _No._ She is not going down that road. It’s unlikely that Regina will take the interview offer, let alone ever want to be with her like _that_.

 

“I just wanted to say goodnight.”

 

“Goodnight, Regina. I may not be here in the morning, I’m not sure yet, but my housekeeper will be here; she’s very sweet, but she’ll ask you a lot of questions, so please don’t feel pressured to answer them if you don’t want to. She’ll understand,” Emma explains, suddenly wishing she _could_ be here tomorrow. A part of her yearns to see Regina half asleep, stumbling into the kitchen, hair mussed and skin warm. _Stop. Pull yourself together, Swan._

 

Emma dares to think Regina’s face falls a fraction, but the expression is gone in a blink and the brunette is smiling in understanding. “Of course, I cant imagine how busy you are,” she says, her voice betraying her tiredness. But the words are genuine, and Emma finds herself smiling widely, unable to help herself.

 

“You have no idea,” the blonde chuckles. “Now get some sleep, you’ve had a long day.” Emma rises from the couch and steers Regina towards the bed, hands placed gently on her shoulders. The younger woman leads obediently, too tired to protest, footsteps heavy and uncoordinated.

 

Emma helps her into bed, tucking the covers up around her as she rearranges herself to get comfortable. “G’night,” Regina mumbles before her head lolls to one side and her breathing evens out. The blonde can’t fight the fond smile that creeps it’s way onto her face, and she absently brushes a strand of hair from Regina’s face before catching herself and withdrawing as though burnt

 

_What the hell is wrong with me? I’m acting like a lovesick fool. I’ve only known the woman for one day, for god’s sake, and she probably hates me. Jesus Emma, way to go._

 

A sharp rap on her door startles her from her self-deprecation. It’s Ruby, that much is clear from the knock, but why? And at this late hour? She pulls open the door and raises an eyebrow in question, silently asking Ruby to explain what she’s doing.

 

“We have a problem.”


	5. chapter five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo i’m back! just finished college for christmas break, yay. i wrote this as a little celebration, i guess!

Regina stirs to the muffled sound of voices and blearily opens her eyes, expecting to be met with the harsh light of morning, so she’s surprised when all she’s met with is Emma’s dark bedroom. Why she’s awake, she has no idea, but now she is, she wants to know what’s going on.

 

Technically, it’s none of her business, but what if Emma needs help? Or it’s an intruder? Regina knows it’s absolute bullshit; there’s no sound of raised voices, but she’s always had a curious streak running through her. Listening in won’t be a problem, right? Emma doesn’t have to know she’s awake.

 

Mind made up, Regina tiptoes up to the bedroom door and pulls it open a sliver, just enough to allow her to peek through to see Emma sat on the couch beside her deputy manager Ruby, clearly deep in a troubling conversation, if the frown she can see on Ruby’s face is anything to go by. Regina hovers, straining to hear their hushed conversation.

 

“Emma, we have to do something? Anna’s  _ insane _ ,” Ruby hisses urgently.

 

“I know, I know. I just— Ugh, I can’t believe she hasn’t let it go.”

 

“Me neither, it’s been years.” Ruby pinches the bridge of her nose between two fingers and massages the spot briefly, sighing heavily. It’s as she looks back up that her gaze lands on Regina — or the half of her face visible through the crack in the door.

 

Regina springs back, alarmed, annoyed at herself for getting caught. She freezes in panic, frantically debating whether to get back in bed and pretend to be asleep, or whether she should just face up to her eavesdropping.

 

She doesn’t have time to make a decision, because the door swings open before her, revealing Emma, expression blank. “Regina,” she greets, tone edged with something the brunette can’t quite detect.

 

“I’m so sorry. I woke up and heard voices—”

 

“So you decided to listen in?” Emma retorts, annoyance seeping into her voice. Regina looks down, ashamed, and crosses her arms across her body, gripping her sides.

 

“Sorry,” she whispers, cheeks aflame.

 

Emma’s expression softens, irritation melting away as she reaches out and squeezes Regina’s bicep. “It’s okay, no harm done. Why don’t you get back to bed? You’ll be tired tomorrow if you stay up.” Regina nods quickly, glad the blonde’s reaction wasn’t worse. She slides back under the covers without another word and offers Emma a small smile as she backs out of the room and clicks the door shut.

 

Wasn’t Anna that rude woman she’d met yesterday in the hotel lobby? She’d thought nothing more of the sniped warning the woman had given her, but now it plays over and over in her head. What had she meant? What  _ would  _ happen if she gets ‘tangled up’ in Emma’s business?

 

Regina wants answers, but she’s tired, and it isn’t much longer before Anna falls from her mind in favour of sleep.

 

* * *

 

A sharp knock jolts Regina from sleep, eliciting a grumbling whine from her lips as she rolls over and buries her face in the soft pillow. Another knock sounds, this time more insistent, and the brunette reluctantly peers around the room, squinting as she tries to adjust to the daylight sneaking in from around the curtains. Another knock.

 

“Yes?” She falls out, clearing her throat to rid her voice of its early-morning croakiness.

 

The door opens, revealing an impeccably-dressed woman in her mid-forties, hair pulled back into a tight low bun, hands clasped in front of her. “I’m Ms Johnson, Ms Swan’s stylist. She sent me to ask if you’ll be attending the interview this morning?”

 

Regina hasn’t even thought about it enough, well, not as much as she’d planned to, but fuck it — she can always say no, right?  _ Right _ , she assures herself. “Um, yeah.”

 

Ms Johnson offers a tight smile, and fully enters the room, a disapproving frown sweeping across her face when she sees Regina in bed. “Great. I’m here to help you dress.”

 

“I can dress myself?” Regina asks, the question causing a lilt in her voice. Why would Emma send a  _ stylist _ ? She’s not a child. Granted, she doesn’t exactly have anything to wear, but is a stylist really necessary?

 

Another frown. “Ms Swan insisted, Miss Mills. I got specific orders,” the woman explains, lips pursed together.

 

_ Specific orders?  _ Regina has no idea what to think. It’s as though Emma knew she’d accept the interview. Maybe she is that predictable; she can’t imagine she hid her appreciation for Emma’s body that well. Kathryn always did call her a useless lesbian. God, she really does need to get better at this whole being gay thing. You’d have thought with ten years of practicing she’d be a pro by now, but nope, she’s far from it.

 

Ms Johnson seems undeterred by Regina’s lack of response, and simply gestures to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take a shower? I’ll have something ready for you when you’re finished.” There doesn’t seem to be any room for discussion, so the brunette simply slides out of bed and shuffles into the en suite with a vague nod.

 

She has a strange feeling her life isn’t going to go back to normal now that she’d met Emma, and she can’t tell whether that’s a good thing or not.

 

* * *

 

Ms Johnson is standing in Emma’s bedroom when Regina comes out, towel wrapped tightly around her body, wet hair resting on her shoulders. She’s not expecting the older woman to be standing there, so she starts when she sees her by the bed, arms folded impatiently. The bed is made immaculately with no evidence of ever being slept in.

 

“Miss Mills—”

 

“Regina,” the brunette corrects.

 

“ _ Miss Mills _ .” Ms Johnson obviously isn’t a fan of being interrupted. “I have an outfit here for you, picked out by Ms Swan herself. She’d like you to wear it, though if you’d prefer something else, that’s fine.”

 

Emma picked her outfit? The heat that drops to Regina’s pussy is sinful; it’s way too early in the day to be getting wet over something as innocent as this.  _ It means nothing, Regina, get it together. _ “Thanks, I’ll just get changed.”

 

“I’ll be outside waiting; I’ll do your hair and make up when you’re done.” And with that, the woman leaves, hips swaying as she goes.

 

Regina never expected this treatment, that’s for sure, though Ms Johnson seems to have a stick wedged far up her ass, that’s for sure. Shaking her head, she drops her towel and surveys the clothes laid out on the bed, eyebrows shooting up when she sees the black garter and thigh-high nylons. There’s a matching bra and panty set, coupled with a silk cream blouse and a tight black pencil skirt.  _ Jesus Christ. _

 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Regina begins to pull on the clothes, unable to help herself imagining Emma ripping off the thong hungrily before diving in between her legs while she lay on the bed, back arching with pleasure as her legs hooked around the blonde’s neck, still wearing the thigh-highs and garter belt.

 

She needs to  _ stop _ .

 

Once dressed, Regina looks herself up and down in the mirror, acquiescing that she does look rather attractive in Emma’s chosen outfit. Everything fits perfectly, especially the skirt, which clings tightly to her ass; she can’t help but think it may have been chosen for exactly that reason.

 

Should she be angry? Possibly? She’s not, though. It’s nice to be appreciated for once, if she’s honest. She’s sick of Robin either thinking he gets to lay his dirty paws on her whenever he likes or running off with another woman when she flat-out refuses to sleep with him.

 

Regina opens the bedroom door to see Ms Johnson lingering outside, tapping away furiously on her phone. She looks up at the sound of movement though, smiles for a split second as she admires the outfit. “Very good. Now, let me add the finishing touches,” she says, pushing Regina back into the bedroom and down into the chair in front of the dressing table.

 

* * *

 

After sitting motionless for an hour, Regina’s ravenous. Ms Johnson has done an admittedly brilliant job of her hair and make up — she honestly looks like she could have stepped out of a magazine — but it’s been a couple of hours since she woke up, and she really wants some food. Before she left, Ms Johnson had told her to go to the kitchen, so she does just that.

 

To her surprise, Regina’s met with the sight of Emma flipping pancakes, dressed in a navy suit with a white shirt and pale pink tie; she looks  _ hot _ . There’s not another word Regina can think of that better sums it up. Thoughts of eating  _ Emma _ for breakfast flashes through her mind, and she has to make a conscious effort to ignore them so she doesn’t stand there like a gaping fool for any longer.

 

“Hi,” she chokes out, unable to force anymore words from her mouth.

 

Upon seeing Regina, Emma looks rather lost for words too, which makes her feel somewhat better. “Regina, good morning. You look— Um, wow. You look gorgeous,” the blonde stammers. “I mean, I thought you’d look good in that but holy  _ shit  _ you’re unreal.”

 

Regina flushes deeply at the clumsy compliment, instinctively clenching her thighs together as she slides onto one of the barstools at the breakfast island. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” It’s a gross understatement, but Regina knows that if she says anything else she’ll give her wild attraction away.

 

Emma appears to pull herself together, because she suddenly smiles brightly and announces, “I made blueberry pancakes! Want some?”

 

“Yes please, they’re my favourite.” Regina salivates as she watches the blonde dish them both a stack, drizzle maple syrup on top, and join her at the island. “So you can cook, huh?”

 

“Yep, though I don’t get to do it as much as I’d like to. Eugine, my housekeeper, does most of it. I gave her the morning off because I was here.” Emma stops talking to shovel a mouthful of pancake into her mouth, which, while terribly ungraceful, draws Regina’s undivided attention. She watches the blonde’s lips wrap around the fork, snippets of those pink lips wrapping around her nipple instead flashing in front of her eyes. “Regina, you okay?”

 

Blinking rapidly, the brunette drops her focus back down to her pancakes and hastily takes a bite, nodding nonchalantly. (Or so she hopes.) When she looks back at Emma after swallowing her mouthful, the blonde is staring at her peculiarly. “What?”

 

“You have some maple syrup…” Emma gestures to her face and colour rushes to Regina’s cheeks, embarrassed. Of course she’s made a fool in front of this gorgeous woman, it’s just her luck. She tries to wipe around her mouth and asks Emma if it’s gone, but the blonde smirks with a shake of her head. “Here, let me.”

 

Leaning forward, Emma reaches out and brushes her finger just beneath Regina’s lip, their breaths mingling. As Emma sits up again, eyes fixed on the brunette as she brings her index finger to her mouth and sucks the maple syrup off, Regina releases an involuntary whimper, pressing her clit down into the stool as her hips twitch.

 

The tension is broken by a ringtone blaring through the apartment. Regina snaps her head away and slides off the stool and rushes towards her phone, knowing exactly who it is; Kathryn.

 

There are twenty missed calls — why didn’t the tone sound before? — and thirty messages, all asking after her whereabouts, some from last night, most from thus morning. “Ah shit.” Regina dials Kathryn’s number and presses her phone to her ear, waiting for her best friend’s voice to come shrieking through the speaker.

 

“Regina, where the fuck are you? I’ve been worried sick. I thought maybe you’d gone home with Robin but then he told me you’d stormed out of the club!” Kathryn’s voice is frantic, and guilt immediately swirls in Regina’s gut; she should have texted her friend last night to at least tell her she was okay. She was so caught up in her tiredness and Emma Emma  _ Emma _ that it totally slipped her mind.

 

“Kath, I’m okay. I went back to Emma’s suite because I couldn’t find you. I thought we were going to have a girls night out, and instead you abandoned me for  _ August _ ,” Regina bites out, annoyed. She understands why Kathryn is mad, of course she does, but none of this would have happened if the blonde hadn’t gone skipping off with her fuck buddy stroke boyfriend.

 

“Emma Swan?! Regina, what the fuck were you thinking? I can’t fucking believe you, honestly. You let her use you, did you? I bet—”

 

Regina’s jaw drops. “Kathryn Isabelle Midas, don’t you  _ dare.  _ I came back here to  _ sleep _ , which I did. Emma was a perfect host, and for your information, she slept on the couch. I can’t believe you think that little of me.” She promptly hangs up, absolutely unprepared to deal with Kathryn’s ranting at this time of the morning.

 

Kathryn’s temper is problematically short, though it’s almost never taken out on Regina — they don’t make a habit of arguing. But when the blonde gets riled up enough, she can yell for hours, until her throat is sore and her voice is a mere croak. It’s something Regina really isn’t interested in listening to; she won’t let her friend ruin her morning.

 

Anyway, she has an interview to get to.

 

When Regina walks back into the kitchen, Emma is nowhere to be found. Regina frowns, disappointed, until she spots a post-it note stuck to the breakfast island. Smiling, the brunette peels it from the surface.

 

_ Regina, I’m sorry I had to leave; something came up. I’ll be ready for your interview though, don’t worry. I’m so glad you decided to reconsider. See you at 10. Emma x _

 

The kiss jumps out at Regina, slamming into her heart without warning. It flutters, teasing her with glimpses of what could be.  _ No.  _ She can’t fall back down this hole. Her and Emma will have the epitome of a professional relationship, nothing else. 

 

Nothing else. That’s doable, right?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you thought! :)

**Author's Note:**

> fuel my brain with your lovely comments and kudos please!
> 
> find me on tumblr: dancingwithwind  
> or twitter: @jodiesfumero


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